Patientia Vel Tyrannidem
by ILIWAPCT
Summary: I like to imagine the answers to the many questions the show editors left us with. I like to write the before and the after. This is one of those. *I don't own the rights to the show or the characters but I'm willing to bid if someone is selling!*
1. Where's the Rear Guard?

**Where's the Rear Guard?**

 **February 1983**

BA crouched down low behind an outcropping of rocks, waiting for the signal that would come any second now. The crescent moon lent little illumination, the darkness only slightly lessened, but the team had scouted the area before the sun had set and BA was confident in his path. The dark silhouette of a cabin 50 yards in front of him was the target. A young man named Jimmy was being held inside against his will but he would soon be safe if BA had anything to say about it. He had faith this plan would go smoothly. Or, at least as smoothly as one of Hannibal's plans was capable of going. Simple rescue mission. Grab the boy, tie up the kidnappers for the local police to pick up and get outta Dodge. They didn't even need Murdock for this one.

The short, sharp whistle ripped through the quiet. BA moved quickly and silently, holding his gold chains down with one hand, his 9mm in the other. He could see his breath in front of him in the cold night air.

He reached the top of the porch two seconds before Hannibal. A quick look and a gesture had BA taking point, Hannibal a step behind and to his left. BA kicked the door open, sweeping his weapon across the room and training it on the lone guard leaned back against the wall in a rickety wooden chair, who'd obviously been caught unaware and probably asleep. The guy jumped up and BA's first thought was disbelief that they'd found some mastermind kidnapper. He was short and plump, wearing a nylon windbreaker and sneakers, not anywhere near appropriate dress for the terrain or the temperature and he seemed inept for pulling such a daring plot against a Senator's kid. A low growl from BA and the kidnapper jerked, losing his grip on the gun he had tried to pull out of his jacket. It clattered onto the old plank floor.

"Kick it over here. Now." Hannibal ordered.

The terrified guard complied quickly, throwing his hands up over his head. "Don't shoot! Don't shoot!"

The boy, all of 9 years old and 60 pounds soaking wet, was tied up on a bed in the corner of the room. His hands and ankles were bound together with thick rope and he had a blindfold over his eyes and a gag in his mouth. BA was infuriated. He held the guard at gunpoint while Hannibal searched him, finding another weapon in an ankle holster. As soon as that gun was safe in Hannibal's possession, BA lunged for the terrified guard, holding him up by his collar.

"Why you treatin' a little kid like that? He better not be hurt, Sucker!"

"He's fine! He's fine. We didn't hurt him," the guard cried, dancing on the toes of his shoes as he tried with both hands to dislodge BA's grip on his shirt.

Hannibal untied the boy and helped him up, tossing the pieces of rope at BA, who caught them one-handed, his other hand still holding up the guard.

"He's ok." Hannibal assured.

BA glared at the guard as he made good use of the rope, returning the favor for Jimmy as he trussed the guy up like a Christmas turkey. Hannibal and BA turned back toward the door with the boy in tow and Hannibal checked the immediate vicinity, motioning BA ahead. Hannibal ushered the boy, who hadn't uttered a sound, out behind him. BA edged down the porch stairs sideways, sweeping the forest for any sign of movement. He was starting to think the kid was in shock and he should try and comfort him when his right leg suddenly buckled underneath him and he went down hard. He hadn't registered the sound of the gunshot and he didn't hear the echo of it as Jimmy had started screaming as soon as BA stumbled. He could see the kid out of the corner of his eye, kneeling on the ground by the bottom stair, hands over his ears, rocking and wailing over and over again and BA rolled over and moved to get up and comfort him.

"BA! Stay down." Hannibal ordered sharply. BA froze as Hannibal pushed the boy over into the dirt and crouched down with his gun drawn, scanning the area for the sniper. "Where the hell is Face?"

Hannibal pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and threw it to BA. "Can you apply pressure?"

BA caught it without thinking and looked down at his leg as the white-hot pain flared with the realization that he'd been shot. He reached down and put the bandana over the hole in his thigh, warm blood soaking through the cloth almost immediately. Wincing as he applied more pressure, he tried to get his bandana out of his back pocket but found he couldn't move enough to reach it without taking his hand off of his leg. This was bad. His hand was now covered in his own blood. He could feel it pouring down over his knee, soaking his pants. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, forcing away the grey that had started to edge into his vision. "Hannibal…"

"Hang on, Sergeant." The Colonel's voice was hard now, full of steel as the realization of the situation hit him. One man down, in the dark of night with a hysterical child and an unknown number of assailants waiting to attack.

Hannibal made some quick decisions and pushed his hand down on the back of the boy's head, gruffly ordering him to stay down. He didn't know if the boy had even heard him but he could see BA was losing blood at an alarming rate and that was his first priority. As he crawled over to help BA, Hannibal was seriously considering knocking the boy out cold. He had just put both hands on the wound to try and staunch the blood flow from BA's thigh wound when rapid fire rang out to the south, followed by the sound of a revving engine and spinning tires. Hannibal dropped down onto BA and the Sergeant grunted with the added pressure.

"That Face?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"I really hope so." Hannibal answered as Jimmy finally stopped screaming, the silence a welcome reprieve.

BA looked over and knew the boy was close to hyperventilating as his chest heaved with wracking breaths.

"It's ok, little man. Everythin' ok." he tried to calm him but the words came out sharp and forced as the pain in his leg flared.

"Hannibal!" Hearing Face call out to him had Hannibal huffing out a small sigh of relief and he called back, "Over here, Face. Stay down, BA's been hit. I don't have a position on the shooter."

"It's all clear," Face panted as he ran over to them and knelt down at BA's side. "Hang in there, BA." Face pulled out his flashlight and handkerchief and Hannibal moved his hands so they could get a look at the wound.

"Where were you, man?" BA ground out. "You was supposed to be the rear guard."

Hannibal felt his Lieutenant tense and glanced up to catch the small shake of his head.

He motioned for Face to do something with the boy while he split the leg of BA's pants and tried to stop the bleeding. BA rolled back and forth on the ground while clutching at his thigh above the wound. Hannibal wasn't sure BA was even conscious of his movements or what he was saying, which made the Colonel worry that much more.

"Face gotta remember how to cover a position. Now I ain't gonna be able to drive my van. He gotta pay for messin' up!"

"BA, you need to stop moving!" Hannibal barked. "We gotta get back to the van, Face."

Ignoring BA's accusations, Face knelt down next to Jimmy and checked him over. The kid barely flinched. "There's a jeep parked behind that stand of trees east of the cabin. They covered it with a tarp and some branches but it hasn't been there very long. You find any keys? The guy I knocked out didn't have any on him."

Hannibal shook his head as he took BA's pulse.

"How many got away?"

When Face didn't answer, he looked up at him again.

"At least one." Face answered quietly as he sat the boy upright.

"There's a guy tied up in the cabin. See if he has the keys, otherwise you'll have to hotwire it. Get going, Lieutenant."

Face jumped up and ran inside. He was running back out the door in less than 2 minutes. "No keys. I'll be back in 15 minutes."

"Make it 10." Hannibal ordered, handing Face the gun he'd taken off the thug tied up inside.

Face sprinted toward the jeep as fast as he dared in the dark.

"Faceman gotta pay for me gettin' shot, Hannibal. I gotta make him pay." BA rambled.

"Shouldn't we find out what happened first, BA?"

"No! He gotta pay!" he insisted.

Hannibal tied two of the cloths together, and using the third as a pad underneath, cinched them tight around BA's leg. "Just hang in there. We'll get you to a doctor as soon as we can."

BA pursed his lips and tried to breathe through the pain as Hannibal tied the bandage.

Less than 10 minutes later, Face roared up in the jeep. He ran around to help load BA into the back. Hannibal jumped in next to BA and Face set Jimmy in the front seat and strapped him in. Dirt and leaves shot out from behind the tires as Face quickly put the jeep in gear and sped down the mountain.

"Alright, Face. Let's have it." Hannibal ordered as he kept pressure on the wound.

"That gunshot came from a 50 cal but both kidnappers had pistols on them. The shot came from the south but I found the recon guy west of that, over by the jeep."

Hannibal mulled that over for a minute. "A third man?"

"Must've been. I picked up his trail but he tore outta there before I could get a look at him."

"OK, as soon as we get to the van, I'll find the nearest doctor and then call Mr. Buckley and have him meet us on the way so he can pick up Jimmy." Hannibal took off his jacket and propped it behind BAs head. The wounded man leaned back against it and closed his eyes, the pain evident on his face.

Jimmy turned around in his seat and eyed Hannibal. "You know my dad?"

"Yes, son. We're taking you back to your dad. You're safe now." Hannibal assured him.

Jimmy looked relieved and leaned back again.

"Do you know who the men are that took you?" Face asked him.

Jimmy looked around nervously and shook his head. "Can I have some water?"

"We'll get you some as soon as we get back to our van, son."

"How many were there, Jimmy?" Face pressed. "This is important. Do you remember how many different men were keeping you at the cabin?"

"They didn't take the blindfold off a lot but I heard them. There were two different ones. The one guy was outside a lot."

"Ok, good boy." Hannibal patted his head and he felt Jimmy relax again. He caught Face's eye in the rear-view mirror. There had definitely been a third man involved and he'd gotten away.

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At the base of the mountain, the Man relaxed in his seat and watched from behind the trees as the black and grey van with red detailing emerged from the access road and tore off toward the nearest town, trailing dust in their hurry to get to a doctor. The Man smiled smugly. It wouldn't be long now. If things kept going this well, he would be able to move up his timeline and finish this little project much earlier than expected. He spent a few minutes packing up his night vision goggles and his rifle before he headed off after the van.


	2. Small Town Life

**Small Town Life**

 **Bad Rock - February 1983**

Maggie Sullivan, MD opened her eyes before the sun was even up. She rolled over and checked the time. 5:03am. She scoffed, wishing she could reset her internal alarm. Damn army! Here she was more than 10 years out of service and she still couldn't sleep past 6:00 am, no matter how late she was up the night before.

The night before.

Maggie smiled as she thought about Hank.

Two years ago, when the town's previous lawman had retired, Hank Thompson had taken over as Sheriff of Bad Rock. Maggie had found a kindred soul in Hank. They'd both left the hustle and bustle of city life and all the chaos that went with it for a nice, quiet life in a sleepy little town off the beaten path. Hank and Maggie had formed a pretty quick bond and found themselves keeping each other company in their downtime. Maggie had thought, that like her, Hank was not looking for anything beyond friendship - until he had asked her to "go steady" a few weeks back. It wasn't like she'd been opposed to a relationship, she just hadn't been actively looking. Hank was a nice guy and she enjoyed his company. He was a little serious for her taste and pretty old-fashioned – who said 'go steady' anymore? - but he was kind and dependable and if she were being completely honest, one of the few options available in their small town. One date had turned into another and they'd quickly fallen into a routine. Lunch at the diner most days and dinner every Saturday night. If a new movie was playing at the Cineplex in the next town over, they would make a day out of it.

It had all been very innocent. Hank would hold doors open and help her with her coat but he didn't try to hold her hand and he had never tried to kiss her - until last night. When Hank had driven up to her house after the movie, he'd walked her up the steps and placed a very gentle, very chaste kiss on Maggie's lips.

It had been sweet and she found herself smiling this morning, thinking about it.

Glancing at the clock, Maggie decided she might as well stop daydreaming and start her day. She grabbed her robe and headed downstairs to start the coffee.

As the coffee maker hummed and gurgled, Maggie opened the curtains on all of the downstairs windows and stepped out onto the porch. It was a chilly 56 degrees and Maggie pulled her robe tighter around herself. She stretched and leaned up against the pillar, admiring her view of the little town she loved. Maggie's house was situated at the end of the dirt road that served as Bad Rock's version of Main Street. Hers was the only house that was technically in town. Twelve years ago, when she'd come back from Vietnam and decided she'd had enough of the big city, she'd purchased the old Bad Rock Inn and converted it into a house and office for herself. All the other houses were set sporadically, on large plots of land spread out on either side of the only road into and out of town. Bad Rock, population 687, had one diner, a post office and a general store. Gail Newman had a little beauty shop set up in the back room of the store and kept the town's ladies' hair cut and coifed. The Sheriff's office and Maggie's home office rounded out the town in public services. Anyone needing a dentist had to wait for Doc Schumer to make the trek into town every few months or drive two hours east to Hillgrove.

Maggie stretched and looked around for the newspaper that she knew was somewhere in her yard.

Spying it wedged underneath one of the prickly bushes that bordered her porch, Maggie sighed.

"Rusty, you missed. Again."

Rusty was the 11-year-old son of Jerry Newton, who operated the little post office. Rusty was a good kid with a terrible throwing arm.

Maggie walked down the porch stairs to dig the paper out of her bushes, thankful that her porch light and flower pots were still in one piece.

She was elbow-deep in leaves when a car horn made her jump. Maggie stood up, paper in hand and whirled around to see Hank and his only deputy, Jack Harmson, roll by in their squad car. She waved with the paper and noticed a rough-looking occupant in the back seat scowling at her.

The car stopped in front of the Sheriff's office down the street and Hank got out and jogged back over to Maggie, who had just reached the top of her porch.

"Sorry about the horn, Baby."

"I wasn't startled at all." Maggie lied with a smile on her face. She looked over Hank's shoulder and noticed Jack still sitting in the car with the prisoner. "Who's your guest?"

"That's Sonny Jenko. Don't worry about him, he won't be here long. What do you say to dinner tonight?"

"That would be nice, Hank."

"Pick you up at 7?"

"I'll see you then."

Hank took a small step forward but then glanced over his shoulder at the car, thought better of it and with a wave, hurried back over to deal with his prisoner. She watched him walk back for a minute and then went inside.

Maggie had just settled down at her dining room table with a cup of coffee and the paper when there was a loud banging on her door. She got up to see who it was and started running when the person outside began shouting about an emergency.

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The Man peered from behind the tree and watched the big, black man being carried toward the house, enjoyed seeing his face contorted in pain. Pain he had caused. Frantic shouting brought a lady to the door who ushered them inside and closed the door behind them. He wondered if the Doctor - the placard in front of the house said Sullivan - was home? Was the woman his wife? Would she be able to help the black man if her husband was out? The Man knew the 50-caliber slug had caused a lot of damage. He had aimed carefully, avoiding the major artery, and still the wound, while not immediately fatal, would need urgent attention. The Man had chosen the cabin's location well. The only town with a doctor near enough to help, but not near enough to transport the patient to a hospital in time, was Bad Rock. Nothing had been left to chance. The Man had them right where he wanted them. He longed to kick the door in and finish the black man off. Make the others watch. He would save Smith for last.

No.

Deep breath.

He reminded himself to be patient. It was very early morning but still broad daylight and the doctor's house was in the middle of the main road. He took some time to study the surrounding area. A lone jogger gave a cursory glance to the black van as he ran past. A delivery truck was making its way down the street. Another man was...wait, who was that? The man flinched as he caught the glint of the sun in his eyes. He ducked further behind the tree and tensed, ready to retreat. The Man blinked a few times until he could make out the Sheriff's badge on the hat. The officer paused behind the van, stopped by the open side door and checked the inside of the vehicle. The lawman turned to scan the street and his eyes passed right over the tree the Man was hiding behind. The Man's mind spun with possibilities as he considered this new development. The Sheriff continued towards the door of the doctor's house and the Man smiled, quickly recalculating his plan as he backed away slowly, fading into the forest. He was nothing if not flexible.


	3. A Rock and a Hard Place

**A Rock and a Hard Place**

 **Hillgrove, CA - March 18, 1983**

"...with Face on the roof across the street, you'll have to drive, Murdock."

BA bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from shouting at the Fool not to damage his van. Again. He hated this plan, the stitches in his leg itched and he was cranky that Hannibal wouldn't let him drive yet. He glared at Face in the seat next to him and then scowled at his still bandaged leg.

Face caught the gesture and swallowed audibly, pulling at his collar. "You're not still blaming me for that, are you BA?"

BA scowled in reply.

He hadn't ever really blamed Face for what had happened but he had appearances to keep up and if thinking BA was still mad kept Face on his toes, then all the better for the team.

After leaving Bad Rock, the team had holed up until just two days ago, when BA had been able to move around without the wheelchair. Dr. Sullivan had recommended he use crutches until he was fully healed, but BA was too impatient and crutches were too much of a hindrance in their current situation as fugitives.

Once the team was more or less mobile again, Hannibal had wasted no time planning to question the kidnappers. Both men were being held in Hillgrove while they awaited trial and Hannibal wanted the name of the third man they'd been working with.

BA realized Face was still looking at him nervously.

"I should be drivin' my van, man."

Murdock peered back at him from the driver's seat. "Doctor's orders, Big Guy! You can't drive for at least 2 more weeks. Why you worried, anyway? Me and your van are simpatico now."

Hannibal interrupted the growl emanating from BA with a clap of his hands. "It's a great plan, guys! What could go wrong?"

"Man, you outta your mind." BA redirected his scowl to Hannibal and waved his hand dismissively.

Hannibal's lips thinned in response and BA had the good sense to look away. He'd already complained quite a bit about their current objective and he figured Hannibal's patience was running thin.

"He's not completely wrong, Colonel." Murdock came to BA's defense.

Hannibal sat up a little straighter and studied his pilot, who carefully avoided looking back at him. Hannibal expected dissent from Face and BA but Murdock was usually game for anything.

"Do I have to remind you guys that there's still a kidnapper out there that we know nothing about? There's no way either of those two dolts in lock-up were the mastermind behind that scheme."

"Yes, Colonel, but walking into the police station where they're being held and questioning them _in the police station_ is asking for trouble." Face ran a hand through his hair, exasperated at needing to explain why the team was worried.

"Are you saying this ID isn't up to par, Lieutenant?" Hannibal asked, holding up the Detective's badge Face had given him.

Face looked affronted and opened his mouth to protest but Hannibal held up a gloved hand.

"Then this will be a piece of cake!" His smile widened at their chorus of groans.

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Hannibal walked down the street toward precinct 14 in an ill-fitting dark brown suit and a wide, brown and green striped tie. He was going for 'overworked, underpaid cop' and judging by the fact that Face could barely look at the suit without cringing, he figured his attempt was successful. The Lieutenant had mumbled something about a 'disgrace to men's fashion' as Hannibal had gotten out of the van.

Up ahead, two uniformed officers had just come out of the building and were headed his way. Hannibal casually flipped his jacket open and stuck his left hand in his pants pocket, making sure the badge clipped to his belt was visible. He ducked his head and coughed into his elbow as he passed by the officers. A quick glance back told him they hadn't given him a second thought. Hannibal smiled to himself, wondering not for the first time, why his team always complained about his ideas. _'My plans are foolproof!'_ he thought as he pulled open the door to the station and confidently walked inside.

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BA had moved to the passenger seat in his van, which was parked down the street from the precinct, half hidden behind a laundromat. He glared out the window, watching for Hannibal to come out of the doors. The Colonel had been in there for close to an hour and BA hoped he was almost done and not handcuffed to a table somewhere, under arrest.

He shook his head and looked over at Murdock who was fiddling with the rear-view mirror. "Pay attention, Fool! You better be ready if somethin' happens."

Murdock sat back in the seat. "I got this, Big Guy! I'm a hundred and ten percent focused and ready. I was thinkin' though, you know what would give the front here some more character?" he asked, waving his hand around between himself and BA. "Fuzzy dice hangin' from the mirror. How about a nice, bright pink pair for a pop of color?"

"Ima pop you if you don't stop messin' around. Now check-in with Face."

Murdock frowned at BA but picked up the walkie talkie. "Kojak 3 to Kojak 4, come in. What's the what, 4?"

BA rolled his eyes at Murdock's choice of radio codes.

"Kojak 4 here," Face said pointedly. "All clear. No sign of 1."

BA snatched the walkie talkie out of Murdock's hand and pressed the button. "Where he at, man? He should a been out by now. We gotta go in there."

"Not yet, BA. There's no sign of any commotion. Let's give him a little longer."

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Hannibal leaned up against the front desk, weary with the apparent weight of the world on his shoulders. He nodded to the officer behind the desk and flashed his badge.

"Detective Allen. I'm here to question Jeffrey Trieger. In addition to the kidnapping charge you've got him for, he may have been involved in an armed robbery over in Sun Valley."

The clerk set aside the paperwork he had been filling out and checked the visitor log. "I don't have you down here, sir. Who did you speak with?"

Hannibal huffed a long-suffering sigh and pulled a small notebook out of his jacket pocket and flipped the pages until he found the right one. "This was all cleared through your Captain. Uh, Davids? He told me you'd have Trieger waiting in interrogation by 1:00." Hannibal looked mildly put out and stared at the desk officer as he waited for the answer he knew was coming.

"Davids is out of the office until tomorrow, sir. Let me check with the Sarge."

 _Bingo! Nice intel, Face._

Ten minutes later, Hannibal was sitting across from Scumbag #1 in the interrogation room. The guy that Face had taken down that night wasn't any more impressive than the one he and BA had left tied up in the cabin. Hannibal leaned back in his chair and stared steadily at Jeffrey Trieger - late 30's, thinning blond hair and a paunch probably borne from too many beers and late night pizzas.

"You got questions or we gonna stare at each other all day?" Jeffrey smirked, flexing his hands in the cuffs attached to a ring on the table in front of him.

"I dunno, Jeff. I guess that depends on if you want to get out of prison before or after you qualify for AARP."

Jeffrey looked confused for a moment before he shook his head. "Look, I already answered a buncha questions. I don't know nothin' and I don't gotta tell you nothin'."

"You haven't answered _my_ questions and I'm pretty sure I've got one no one's asked you yet. I want to know who was _really_ behind kidnapping Senator Buckley's kid?"

Jeffrey paled visibly and shifted in his seat, his eyes darting nervously around the room. "What? What are you talkin' about?"

Hannibal crossed his arms over his chest. "I know you and Tweedle Dum in the cell next to you weren't working alone. I want a name, pal."

"Uh, I, um...that was all me and Stan. We did it together." Jeffrey nodded his head vigorously. "Even came up with the idea at the same time. We needed some money, that's all and we wasn't gonna hurt the kid, just scare him a little till his Pop forked over the ransom. We took care 'a him, fed him and everything. Even-"

Hannibal stood up quickly and leaned down over the table, spreading his hands out so he could look the babbling man in the eye. "Tell me who hired you. A name. Now." he demanded in a low voice.

"Man, I, uh, don't know what you're talking about. We did it all ourselves. There wasn't anyone else. Where'd you hear that? Nobody else thinks that, do they?" Jeffrey was sweating now and wringing his hands in the cuffs. He tried to stand up, knocking the metal folding chair he had been sitting in clanging to the floor behind him as the handcuff chain pulled taunt. He yanked at the bolt on the table, yelling at the closed door. "Hey! HEY! We did it! Me and Stan. I want to confess. Get this guy outta here!"

Hannibal eyed the guy that had worked himself into a full-on panic attack and then quickly walked out the door, pulling it shut behind him. The duty officer outside of interrogation was heading over to see what all the commotion was about.

"What's going on in there?"

"That guy must be on something. Just started talking all kinds of nonsense. You'd better get in there before he hurts himself."

The officer opened the door and immediately called for back-up as Jeffrey was yelling and kicking at the table he was attached to, desperately trying to get free.

"We did it! There wasn't nobody else! You gotta believe me! Man, it was just us!"

Hannibal reached the back stairs and headed down to the exit just as footsteps started pounding down the hallway toward the interrogation rooms. Slipping out the back, Hannibal made his way down the alley and headed east on the next street, the opposite direction from the van, just in case. He ducked into a bakery on the corner and waited to see if anyone was looking for him. That had not gone exactly as he had planned.


	4. Preventative Measures

**Preventative Measures**

In the van, Murdock had moved on to other dashboard decoration ideas. He couldn't understand why BA had shot down every single idea, even the dancing Hula Girl.

The radio crackled to life and Murdock reached over to grab it but BA snatched it away before his hand was halfway there.

"Change of plans, guys. Grab Face and meet me at the corner of 1st and Weller."

"Right, Hannibal." BA confirmed, relieved to have something to do other than wait.

"The radio codes, Big Guy! Use the radio codes."

"Shut up and drive, Fool!"

"On the way down now." Face's voice came through the mic with an echo as he headed down the stairwell.

BA went to put the radio back in the console and saw Murdock sulking out of the corner of his eye. With an eye roll, he hit the button again and said, "Heard. Kojak 2 out."

BA instantly regretted the small gesture as Murdock's face lit up with a big grin and he started going on about all the TV show cop and detective names they could use next time.

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Ten minutes later, Face had been picked up and the van was approaching the rendezvous spot. Murdock spotted Hannibal and eased the van up to the curb long enough for him to jump in the side door that Face held open for him and then merged back into traffic seamlessly. Hannibal slung the paper bag he had been carrying over the back of the front seat and into BA's lap as he stepped over Face to sit in Murdock's usual seat.

"Donuts."

"Thanks, Hannibal."

"You gotta share those, BA." Murdock admonished, reaching for the bag as he pulled the van away from the curb and headed back toward L.A..

BA swatted his hand away. "You not eatin' while you drivin' my van!"

"Well, Hannibal?" Face urged.

Hannibal sighed. "That guy is more scared of our Mystery Man than he is of us. He was playing tough guy until I asked him who he was working for and then he went a little nuts. I didn't have time to get anything out of him before he started shouting a confession at the top of his lungs."

Face looked perplexed. "Wait, what? What did he confess?"

"As soon as I mentioned a third man, he swore up and down he and Stan Harcourt planned that little job all by themselves." Hannibal got thoughtful. "He was more anxious to go to prison than he was to implicate anyone else. We must be dealing with a big fish here, guys."

"Oh, that's just great!" Face let a dose of sarcasm color his tone. "What now, Colonel?"

"Let's see if we can't get Stanley-boy to break."

"You wanna go back there?"

"No, Face. I want you and Murdock to go back there. Give him a little good cop, bad cop treatment and see what comes out in the wash."

"Ooh, can I be the bad cop?" Murdock asked.

"Sure, Cap'n." Hannibal agreed with a smile.

Murdock's look of delight turned into a frown. "You keep rollin' your eyes like that, Face and they gonna get stuck up there."

"You're driving, Murdock. You can't even see my eyes."

"But I ain't wrong, am I?"

Face ignored him and sighed. "I already hate this plan, Colonel. How do you expect us to go back there right now? Those cops aren't gonna buy another outside inquiry into those two - you just left, for crying out loud!"

"Relax, Face. Not right now. We'll give it a couple of days and try again."

Face sighed. "Well, as much as I'm looking forward to that, Murdock can you drop me off at the condo in Santa Barbara? I've got a date tonight."

"You goin' out with Tracy again, Faceman?"

"No, Murdock. Tracy was fun but tonight I'm meeting Rhonda. Met her at the gym the other day. She's-"

Face paused mid-sentence at BA's high-pitched giggle. "Whatchu doin' in the gym, Face?"

Eyes narrowing, Face glared. "Real funny, BA. Rhonda was coming out of the gym as I happened to be walking past."

BA snickered behind his hand while Hannibal hid a smile behind his cigar.

"Anyway, Rhonda is real serious about her figure, if you know what I mean, hmm?"

It was Murdock's turn to roll his eyes. "We _always_ know what you mean, Face."

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 **Hillgrove, CA - March 19, 1983**

The Man casually strolled out the door with a smile and a nod to the guy behind the desk. He whistled a jaunty tune as he walked to his car parked across the street. That had been too easy. He longed for more of a challenge but knew the time would come when Smith would realize what he was up against and then the Man would need to up his game. The Man detested Smith, but he wasn't so foolish as to underestimate him. Right now, all the Colonel and his men knew was that someone had helped with the kidnapping of the Senator's son. They had no other details. They could be looking for a German hitman or a Chinese zookeeper for all they knew. 'How frustrating that must be,' the Man thought.

As he pulled away from the curb, he allowed himself the pleasure of reliving the last hour. After the Man had been properly assured of the continued anonymity of his identity, he'd closed the book on that chapter for good. A few knots, a quick push or two and he was on his way.

The Man had settled in for the drive back to L.A. when a gold colored sedan going the opposite direction caught his eye. 'You're early - but still too late,' he thought, smirking. He scanned the side of the road and focused his attention on finding a payphone before he reached the freeway turn-off.

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"A couple of days! Can you believe this? It's been _one_ day, Murdock, and now he wants us to go back in there and talk to the other guy. This isn't gonna work. How can this work? We'll both be arrested. This is just great."

Murdock patiently watched his friend huff himself into a frenzy as he drove the borrowed sedan down the street toward the station.

"Calm down, Faceman. I'm startin' ta think maybe we should play Good Cop, Pessimistic Cop. Guess which one you are?"

Face glared and blew air out through his pursed lips.

"'Sides, it's gotta be today 'cause I gotta get back to the VA for the new culinary art therapy."

"Yeah, and Hannibal's lining up that job for the church in Guatemala which I'm sure is going to require the procurement of planes and tanks and rocket launchers...we should be doing _this_ next week." Face paused. "You ok with your part here?"

"Yup! I'm the Coooool Cop."

"Murdock…"

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Face knew something was wrong the instant they walked into the precinct. The place was packed with people, rushing around.

He turned to Murdock and shoved the car keys into his hand. "Get out of here. Wait in the car and be ready for a quick exit." he whispered urgently.

Murdock didn't hesitate - he immediately turned around to leave and ran right into two EMTs walking into the building, one pulling a gurney behind him.

"Watch it, buddy!"

The pilot ducked his head and mumbled a quick apology as he rushed around the gurney and headed out the door.

Face wasted no time blending into the chaos. He walked with purpose, even though he didn't have a specific destination, until he found what he was looking for. The break room was small and currently had only one occupant - a secretary making a fresh pot of coffee. Face shut the door behind him and disarmed the young lady with one dazzling smile.

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Murdock sat in the car behind the police station, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and watching for any sign of Face. He wished they'd done some recon before they had gone inside, then they would have noticed the ambulance parked near the back door. Whatever had happened, someone wanted to keep it quiet.

The door was pushed open and out came the two EMTs pushing the gurney, except this time there was a black body bag strapped to it. The gurney was loaded into the ambulance and driven away. Murdock watched the emergency vehicle drive around the building, toward the street, before he heard the siren.

He was pondering why they would use the siren when out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Face come tearing around the other side of the building, searching for the sedan.

Murdock started the car and slammed it into gear, screeching up next to Face, who dove into the back seat, ducking down under the rear window.

"Let's get outta here, Murdock. Lynch is coming!"

"We gone, Faceman." Murdock assured, pressing the accelerator. He followed the path the ambulance had taken to the street and could just see the flashing lights of the military vehicles coming their way. He turned the opposite direction and made sure to stay under the speed limit. When he was sure Lynch's whole entourage had turned into the police station, he picked up some speed and wove back toward the freeway.

"Did Stan tell you about the third guy?"

Face sat up and adjusted his jacket and tie. "That would have been kind of hard considering he and Jeffrey hanged themselves in their cells this morning."

Murdock met Face's eyes in the rearview mirror. "That ain't good, Muchacho."

"It gets better. The lovely young lady I spoke to said the coroner is ruling the deaths as suicide but the station Chief thinks the circumstances are suspicious. They both had badly broken pinky fingers on their left hands and the way they were found, it looks like Jeffrey helped Stan, uh, get into position. The question then, is who helped Jeffrey?"

"Sounds like someone was afraid they were gonna talk too much."

"My thoughts exactly. Hannibal's not going to like this."


	5. Frustration

**Frustration**

 **Santa Barbara - April 12, 1983**

The Man sat in his stolen car and waited, watching the street in front of him and reflecting on the past month. The black man had survived his wound and the team had even made time to help the inept Sheriff and his bumbling deputy with the biker gang that seemed intent on destroying the town. Smith had taken his men and gone to ground immediately after leaving Bad Rock, avoiding the military and himself. The Man didn't mind. He knew they would appear again when their teammate had healed and it had given him time to adjust his plan. He had cut it a little close on dealing with the witnesses but it had all worked out.

The Man picked up his newspaper and held it just under his line of sight so he could still see Peck waiting for his latest conquest to come out of the gym. They met, and Peck walked down the street with the woman in her ridiculously tight and revealing exercise clothes. After long weeks of surveillance, the Man had grown bored watching Peck leave a trail of women in his wake. The Man didn't care about the women or their feelings, he just wanted Peck to find one that he could tolerate for more than an evening so the Man could arrange to have his message delivered. Peck never stayed with any of them for very long but if he went out with someone more than once, chances were good he would keep them around for a while. The Man was sure that the brunette with the disbelieving look currently on her face, no doubt put there by Peck's lying, cheating ways, would suit his purpose.

Peck looked apologetic and reached for the woman's hand, pulling her close. The Man smirked as the woman melted into Peck's embrace. He had seen several similar scenes over the past few weeks and knew what would happen next. Peck was a cocky SOB who used emotions as currency to get what he wanted. Peck's manipulation suited the Man's purpose for now, but the Man couldn't wait to knock him down a few pegs. The Man would make sure Peck would live just long enough to watch most of his friends die. All but Smith. Smith would suffer the longest.

As Peck tucked a strand of the woman's hair behind her ear, the Man started his car and pulled away from the curb, taking a quick right. He didn't need to see anymore or know where the pair were going - he knew where the woman lived and how to get to her when he was ready.

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 **Bad Rock, CA - April 16, 1983**

"Maggie?"

Startled out of her thoughts, Maggie Sullivan looked around at the other diners in the restaurant and then up into the expectant face of Hank Thompson.

"Sorry, Hank. Did you say something?"

Hank chuckled a little. "Well, I've been talking for the last several minutes. Are you ok?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry. It's just been a long day and I have some things on my mind." She paused a minute, reading the concern in Hank's eyes. "Is it ok if we skip the movie tonight? I don't think I'd be able to concentrate."

"Sure thing, baby. Let's get you home."

Hank helped Maggie out of the booth and up to the counter where he paid the bill and then held Maggie's sweater out for her to slip into. It was already April, but the breeze that filtered down from the mountains kept the nights cool. Hank offered his arm and they headed out onto the main street for the walk back to her house. As they made their way down the dirt road, Hank tried to initiate conversation again but Maggie was not responding. Hank sighed and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. Maggie looked down and allowed the gesture with a small, sad smile.

As they reached the bottom of her porch, Hank turned Maggie toward him. He ran a hand over her soft, dark curls and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her lips.

Hank pulled her into a hug and whispered in her ear, "If you didn't feel like being alone tonight…"

Maggie pulled back slightly. "Uh, well, thank you, Hank, for dinner, but I've got some paperwork I need to deal with. The filing deadline is coming up and it's driving me to distraction." Maggie went for an apologetic shrug but wasn't sure it was very convincing. She turned to head up the porch stairs, but Hank stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Is there anything I could help you with?"

Maggie could see the desire in his eyes. This would make the third time she had turned him down in the last month and she felt horrible about it. Hank was such a kind man and their relationship was dependable but boring as hell! Maggie loved her life in Bad Rock but lately it was all so predictable, and if Maggie was honest with herself, monotonous. But wasn't that what she had wanted? Safe and predictable? She had moved to the smallest town in the area to get away from the chaos of city life and from arrogant men that resented her for her career, both in the army and as a civilian. Yet, here she was complaining about getting everything she'd wanted. Hank was supportive. He was more than willing. He was who she thought she was supposed to want to be with. And she might have wanted him. Before. If there had ever been a spark with Hank, it had been obliterated by the atomic blast that was Hannibal Smith. She had known that man for less than a day and hadn't seen him in over a month and she just couldn't stop thinking about him. His confidence, that crooked smile, those lips...Maggie jumped as Hank caressed her cheek.

"You really are distracted today, aren't you?"

Maggie looked down as the blush from thoughts of Hannibal's strong arms around her, his soft lips on hers, spread across her face. Maggie coughed and tried to bring some semblance of regret to her features. "I really am, Hank. How about we have lunch on Friday, after this paperwork is out of the way and I can concentrate again?"

Hank, the consummate gentleman, kissed her cheek and left her at her door. He headed home alone. Again.

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 **Los Angeles, California - late April 1983**

The Man was irritated. All of that work, all of the planning that he had done and the A-Team had up and left without seeing any of the fruits of his labor. Up and left wasn't exactly true. Damn the military. They had gotten lucky and captured Smith, Baracus and Peck and had shipped them off to an unknown location almost immediately. The Man had extensive contacts in the Government and even he had only found out that they were not in any military installation in the country. It had given the Man hope at the time that all was not lost but now it had been weeks and still Peck had not run to the rescue. He let out a resigned sigh. He would have to consider Rhonda a practice run. Perhaps it was time to move on from supporting characters and leave his message with one of the main cast. The reporter would do.


	6. Insomnia

**Insomnia**

 **East Texas - May 13, 1983**

The mood in the van was somber. BA drove, both hands on the steering wheel at a perfunctory 10 and 2, eyes forward, lips pressed together. Hannibal sat starting out his window, the cigar stuck in the corner of his mouth occasionally bobbing up and down as he adjusted it. With his eyes closed and his fingers laced together, resting over his stomach, Face looked like he was trying to rest but he shifted position too often for anyone to believe he was really asleep. Even Murdock was silent, slouched down facing the wall, legs pulled up with his knees resting up against the armrest, ball cap pulled low over his face.

Normally, Amy would be sat on a crate in the middle of Face and Murdock, chattering away and rolling her eyes at one antic or another, but this hadn't been a normal mission. The team had just left Barlow Creek and the guys were lost in their own thoughts and memories. Amy had retreated to the back-bench seat to give them all some space. She had her notebook open on her lap and a pencil poised to write the story of the small-town hero, taken too soon from his wife and unborn child. It had sounded like a great piece when Amy had pitched it to her editor but now she felt almost guilty trying to write it. She had witnessed the best and the worst that humanity had to offer in the last week. She saw firsthand, the lowlifes that had taken the decorated Major from his family. Had fought beside his wife and protected her as best she could. Had seen the anguish and the sorrow that his wife and best friends had gone through.

From the moment they had arrived in Barlow Creek, the Watkins had kept the team occupied with stopping their reign of terror. After the brothers were arrested for murder and turned over to the Sheriff, the gravity of the situation had hit them all a little harder. They had spent a few more hours with Trish, listening to her plans for the farm, her plans for the baby, how she would keep Ray's memory alive for the son or daughter who would never know their father. Amy felt like she was intruding, watching something intimate that wasn't meant for her and when the team had started to say their goodbyes, Amy had hugged Trish quickly and fled to the van.

Now, she wanted to be anywhere _but_ the van. The silence was making her uncomfortable. She felt like an outsider, as if her presence was preventing the guys from expressing their true feelings over Ray and what had happened in Barlow Creek.

Amy closed the notebook and gave up trying to write. She'd only pieced together two sentences anyway and the sun was starting to set, taking her light with it.

The silence was broken as BA asked Hannibal a question, too low for Amy to make out.

Without moving, Murdock muttered what sounded like, "Bed."

"Face?" Hannibal didn't bother raising his voice, almost as if he knew Face wasn't asleep despite appearances.

"Hotel. But...Amy." Face answered quietly.

Hannibal nodded, not that Face could see it, but it didn't seem to matter. Amy was amazed, not for the first time, at the way these men could communicate without saying much of anything.

She didn't want to intrude on the conversation but she also didn't want them talking about her like she wasn't there.

"What about me?"

"We're going to stop for the night soon. Are you ok with ordering something in for dinner?" Hannibal asked her. He sounded tired.

"Of course, that's fine. Whatever you guys want to do."

"I'm afraid you'll be on your own tonight, Amy."

She didn't have a response for that so she just didn't say anything. Face sat up in his seat and turned to check on Murdock before he looked back at her. He tried for a reassuring smile but the weariness around his eyes negated the attempt.

"Thanks." he said softly.

Amy nodded in response and Face glanced at Murdock again before leaning back in his own seat.

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 **New Boston, Texas**

 _Machine gun?_

 _Nah, too much damage._

 _Bow and arrow?_

 _I can't actually shoot one of those._

 _Hmm. I don't actually know how to shoot a machine gun either._

 _Wire cutters?_

 _No easy access to any of the wiring and even if I could cut something, the whole street would probably lose power._

 _A-ha! Blow torch and then wire cutters!_

Amy giggled when she realized she actually had access to all of those things in BA's van. Well, except the bow and arrow - she didn't think the guys had one of those.

She really needed to get some sleep.

What kind of blackout curtains didn't close all the way? The ½ inch gap aligned perfectly between Amy's head and the street light outside, which was making a valiant effort to stay lit despite whatever issue it had that was making it blink on and off. It was enough to drive her crazy and keep her awake. Even with her eyes closed and her back turned, she could still see the neon flash, intermittently coloring everything in its path a garish pink.

Amy threw off the covers, rushed to the window and jerked the plastic wands that made the curtains open and close. The gap remained.

 _Who am I kidding? I couldn't sleep anyway. I sound like Murdock, blaming the curtains._

Amy looked at the clock. 11:14pm. It was still early enough to get a drink. The little restaurant next to the motel had a bar. She'd noticed the sign, advertising as much as they'd pulled in to the parking lot. Amy stood staring at the clock and considered her options. She could see if Face was still up and ask him if he was interested in joining her - he was always up for checking out the local scene - except that tonight, he probably wasn't. She was sure every one of the guys were asleep, or at least not in the mood for company. She could try writing again, but if that didn't work, the restaurant would close before she could change her mind.

With a huge sigh, she changed back into the clothes she'd worn all day and made sure she had her hotel key. In the past, Hannibal had warned her not to go wandering off in strange towns without one of the team with her but the thought of seeing their haunted faces again tonight made her want a drink that much more. Mind made up, she looked out the window and then slipped out the door, letting it click softly behind her. One drink and she'd be back before anyone knew she'd left.

Amy hurried down the stairs and to the end of the parking lot where the restaurant was. She gave the dumpster a wide berth as it was half hidden in the darkness where the streetlight failed to reach around the side of the building.

It was a shame she didn't notice the man lying prone on the ground next to the dumpster, hidden in the shadows. If she had walked just a little closer, she might have seen the toe of a shoe with its untied lace lying in the circle of light, stretched out as if to seek help for its unconscious owner.

The Man watched her walk around the dumpster. He pressed his fingers to the fake moustache on his lip, making sure it was secure and adjusted the glasses that he didn't really need up onto his nose. This was going to be fun.

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 **1:30am**

Face sat upright in bed. He ran a hand through his hair and looked around the room, trying to orient himself. Hotel room in Texas. Something felt off. He looked at his watch and threw off the covers, slipping into his shoes while running for the door. Murdock should have woken him up 30 minutes ago.

Two short knocks, one long and another short on the hotel room door and he stood to the side, gun held low at his thigh.

"Faceman?" came BA's rough whisper through the door.

"It's me." he affirmed.

The lock disengaged and the door opened. Face rushed in. Hannibal and BA were both still dressed - Face wasn't surprised as it was often easier and more convenient to just sleep in their clothes on these quick overnights. Both men were armed and on alert.

"What's going on?" Hannibal asked, running a hand over his face.

"Murdock was supposed to wake me over half an hour ago. He's not in our room."

No one bothered to point out the potential explanations Murdock might have had for not waking Face up to relieve him because when it came to taking a watch shift, they all followed the same rules, which included letting someone know if you were going to extend your shift for any reason. Murdock wouldn't have just ignored the rules without some kind of signal that all was ok.

"Alright. Face, you check on Amy and then stay with her. BA and I will go look for Murdock. Contact every 15 min until we find him. Let's go, BA."

Face stepped back out into the hall and knocked on Amy's door, standing to the side and peeking through the curtain. He snapped his fingers three times to alert BA and Hannibal, who had just started toward the staircase. A few hand signals had Hannibal and BA in position on either side of the door while Face picked the lock.

Hannibal went in first with BA on his heels. After they'd checked the bathroom and confirmed Amy was not in the room, Face closed the door.

"Her purse and hotel key are gone."

"Looks like she got dressed and left on her own." Face commented, pointing at Amy's pajamas at the foot of the bed, which was what had alerted him that something was wrong.

"Alright. Let's find Murdock and figure out what's going on." Hannibal decided. "He might have Amy with him."

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 **12:15am**

"I really should get back to my room. I'll be heading out early in the morning." Amy sighed, gently turning her new friend's wrist toward her to check the time on his watch.

"If you insist you can't stay for just one more drink, then I'll walk you back to your room. It's much too late for a beautiful woman like yourself to be walking around out there alone." Keven smiled at her as he stood up from the bar stool and offered her his arm.

"I'm just across the parking lot." Amy yawned, leaning on Keven's arm a little more than was probably appropriate. She hadn't realized how sleepy she had become until she'd stood up.

Keven led Amy out of the restaurant into the cool night air. "That's no problem. I parked my car in the hotel lot so I'm headed that way anyway."

"I didn't think I'd be able to sleep at all tonight but now I can barely keep my eyes open."

Keven smiled darkly and leaned down to whisper in Amy's ear. "Well, I intended to have to come to you, so the dose might be off a little."

"What?" Amy blinked, not sure she'd heard correctly.

Keven winked at her. "I had to improvise. Instead of an injection, I spiked your drink. If it makes you feel any better, it was more fun this way."  
Amy stared in shock as what the man had said, sunk in. She realized her arms and legs weren't working very well anymore and she would be flat on her face on the pavement if Keven wasn't propelling her along, one arm encircling her waist, the other holding her by the upper arm. She tried to push away but her limbs wouldn't cooperate.

"I have friends in the hotel. I'll scream and they'll come running."

Keven chuckled. "I took care of the clown and there's a good," he looked at his watch, "45 minutes until I have to worry about one of the others noticing."

Amy opened her mouth to scream and Keven immediately grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. The scream came out as a sputter as Amy watched his eyes flash with warning.

His voice was low and serious. "If you try that again, I might have to increase the severity of my message."

"What message? I'll deliver it, I promise. Just tell me what it is and who it's for. Please!" Amy pleaded.

"Oh, you'll deliver it for me, but it's more of a visual message than a verbal one."

"Why are you doing this?" Amy was crying now, struggling to catch her breath. No matter how hard she tried, her limbs just weren't getting the message to move, run, fight...anything! She felt herself slipping, the urge to close her eyes overwhelming.

Keven scooped Amy up and carried her off toward the nondescript van parked in the shadows next to the dumpster as she lost the battle with consciousness. "Don't you worry your pretty, little head. You won't remember anyway."


	7. Memory Loss

**Memory Loss**

 **New Boston, TX - April**

The first thing Murdock was aware of was that he was cold. He thought he must've kicked off the blanket on his bed again until he realized he wasn't in his bed. He cracked one eye open and groaned when his head spun. Unfortunately, waking up on the cold, hard ground wasn't all _that_ unusual but damn if he could remember where he was or how he got there. He tried pushing himself up but immediately realized that was a bad idea and stopped, swallowing back the bile that rose in his throat with the waves of nausea. Murdock took some slow, deep breaths until his stomach settled down and then he tried lifting his head again. He only felt a little better. He slowly pushed himself to a seated position and held down the light button on his watch. The numbers were blurry and he couldn't make them out. He reached for the gun that should have been tucked into the waistband of his khaki's but came up empty. He squinted his eyes and looked around until his mind cleared enough to remember where he was. Putting a little more focus into getting his head to stop mimicking a Tilt-A-Whirl, he crawled towards the dark shadow to his right. He needed to get to the guys.

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BA yanked open the back door to his van and unlocked the gun cabinet. Grabbing a couple of M16s and a few firearms, he snapped the padlock closed and was about to close the door when he heard a soft moan.

He clicked his tongue to Hannibal who was standing guard behind him and readied himself to catch the stowaway over the back seat as Hannibal sent Face to the side door.

His hand on the door handle, Face signaled he was ready and Hannibal barked, "Now."

BA peered over the back-bench seat as Face simultaneously slid the side door open, both of them pointing their weapons inside.

"Amy!" Face holstered his gun and jumped into the van.

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Across the parking lot, Murdock had found his weapon near the wall of the restaurant. He used the dumpster to pull himself up to a standing position and slipping the gun back into his waistband, he aimed himself toward the hotel and started walking unsteadily. His vision had cleared a little but the pounding at his temple had brought back the nausea and made it hard to focus.

Murdock made it to the stairs at the end of the parking lot when he heard Hannibal's voice around the corner where they had parked the van. He pushed off the railing and stumbled toward the sound.

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"Let's get her inside, Sergeant. Face, lock up the van."

BA lifted Amy gently and followed Hannibal around the corner only to run into his back as he stopped short.

"Colonel, am I glad to see y-…" Murdock promptly passed out, falling forward. Hannibal caught him before he hit the sidewalk.

"Hurry up, Face! We found Murdock. Or he found us." he muttered, holding Murdock up under his arms.

"New plan. Let's get them both in the van and then BA, you help Face get our things. Let's get out of here. Until we know what's going on, I don't want to be caught in a hotel room with only one way out."

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"I didn't hear nothin', Colonel. He walloped me pretty good though." Murdock hissed as he adjusted the ice pack over the bump on the side of his head.

Hannibal swiveled his chair around to face the back seats. "Why were you over by the dumpster, Captain?"

Murdock thought about it. "Last I 'member, I was on my way back from a perimeter check. I never went by the restaurant."

Hannibal nodded as he lit his cigar. "You're sure nothing's missing?"

"Nope! I even still have my lucky penny." Murdock grinned from underneath the ice pack.

"Hannibal, it's not like Murdock carries anything on him worth taking anyway." Face added.

"Face, it's a _lucky_ penny. The jerk didn't know I keep it in my shoe or he would've taken it." Murdock explained as if Face should have known.

"Sorry, Murdock. I guess it's lucky he didn't."

"Because it' -"

"Shut-up, Fool. Face, how's Amy?" BA asked from behind the wheel. He checked behind them again to make sure no one was following.

"Still out. She must have been drugged, Hannibal. Otherwise, resetting her finger would have woken her up for sure. And I don't know what she had in her purse before but there isn't any cash or credit cards now."

"We'll see what she says when she wakes up, Face. And we'll be having a talk about following the rules when we're out on a case."

"What'd the bartender say 'bout the guy she left with again?" Murdock asked, his eyelids starting to droop.

Hannibal shook Murdock's leg gently until he refocused.

"I was jus gonna count a few dozen sheep, Colonel."

"Concussion protocol, Captain. You can sleep later." Hannibal reminded him.

"6 foot, blond hair, mustache and glasses." Face ticked off the list. "He hadn't ever seen him before."

"That sounds like the guy that got me." Murdock mused, shifting in his seat to get more comfortable.

"I thought you said you didn't see him?"

"I didn't BA, but it _sounds_ like him."

"Fool." BA huffed. "Man, Hannibal, for once Murdock got a reason to be talkin' crazy with that concussion."

"I think you're right, BA." Hannibal agreed, watching to make sure his Captain didn't fall asleep.

"What's wrong with Murdock?" came Amy's groggy voice from the back. She tried to sit up but Face held her down by her shoulders.

"Just lie still, Amy."

"Why?" Amy demanded. "What happened to Murdock?"

"I'm fine, darlin'. Glad to see you awake!" Murdock turned slowly around to face her as she struggled against Face's grip.

"What do you mean? What's going on? Where are we?" she asked, panic tingeing her words when she saw the ice pack on Murdock's head.

"Everything's ok. We're in the van heading home and you're safe." Face soothed.

"Safe? Why wouldn't I be, ow..."

"Where?" Face asked.

Amy stopped struggling to sit up and concentrated on breathing, holding a hand over her left side.

"May I?" Face asked, indicating her shirt.

Even in her confusion, Amy looked at Face suspiciously. He held up both hands in a surrendering gesture and she finally nodded her consent. Face lifted her shirt up to her bra and gently probed her ribs with his fingertips. She winced and sucked in a sharp breath when he hit a tender spot and he pulled her shirt down again.

"Face?" Hannibal questioned.

"Nothing broken, just more bruises."

"More? What happened?"

"What do you remember, Amy?" Hannibal motioned for Face to help her sit up. She grabbed her head with her hand and cried out when her taped finger was jostled. She started breathing faster and looked around frantically. Why couldn't she remember anything?

"Shh. It's ok. You're ok." Face put his arm around her shoulders and gently pulled her toward him. "Now what's the last thing you remember?"

Amy let herself be comforted while she racked her brain trying to come up with any memory of what had happened. "I don't know." she sobbed, grabbing Face's shirt with her good hand. Someone please tell me what happened!"

"We're not sure, Amy. We found you in the van in the middle of the night." Hannibal said. "Do you remember leaving the hotel room?"

"No…" Amy's eyes widened. "Trish! Is she ok?"

"She's fine."

"Was it Deke? D-Did he do this to me?"

"No, Amy." Hannibal said firmly. "Deke and his brothers are all in jail. We were long gone from Arkansas, on our way back to LA."

"I don't understand! Why can't I remember?" Amy wailed, burying her head into a surprised Face's chest. He looked helplessly at Hannibal who shrugged and indicated to just let her calm down for the time being.

Murdock reached out and put his hand on Amy's knee. "Don't worry 'bout nothin', Amy. We're gonna take good care of you."

"That's right!" BA affirmed gruffly.

Face held her against his chest until she fell into an exhausted sleep, nudging Murdock with his foot every once in a while, to keep him awake.

Hannibal smiled broadly at him and said softly. "Looks like you've got it all under control, Lieutenant!"

Face rolled his eyes as Hannibal turned his seat forward again.

"Hannibal, what we gonna do?" BA asked in as much of a whisper as he could manage.

Hannibal sighed. He didn't like loose ends any more than BA did but the trail was non-existent. No one had seen or heard from the blond man before last night or since. He'd paid cash at the bar and the restaurant's security camera was mostly for show, blinking on and off at will. Hannibal had politely suggested to the owner that he remedy that situation.

No one besides Trish and a hand-full of Barlow Creek residents had even known who the Team was or where they were headed and most of them were in jail now anyway. As far as Face had been able to tell, there was no one menacing anyone in the small town they'd stopped in.

Murdock had a concussion and Amy was pretty banged up but thankfully that was as far as it had gone.

"There doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the crime, BA."

"You think the Fool tripped and fell and knocked hisself unconscious? Amy didn't just sneak out the room, get herself bruised up with a busted-up hand and end up in my van all by herself." BA growled.

"I know, BA, but we may just be dealing with a random mugging. We'll be extra careful for a while until we figure this out. Hopefully, Amy will remember more later, but for now, we're going to go home and regroup."

BA pressed his lips together and focused on the road ahead of him. 'Whoever did it better hope I don't ever find him.'


	8. A Decision Made

**A Decision Made**

 **Early June 1983**

Hannibal Smith needed a smoke. He pushed the lighter in on his "borrowed" 1979 Chevy Impala and waited impatiently for it to pop. The cigar, wedged between his teeth flattened just a little as he pressed his lips together and reconsidered his decision one more time.

It was a risk. A potentially disastrous risk. Having a doctor on hand for emergencies would give him peace of mind. Giving that doctor the wrong idea about his intentions would give him a headache.

The image of Murdock, grimacing in pain from the powder burns on his face flashed through his mind. Pressed against the back of the airplane seats, blind and disoriented until Face had been able to disable the terrorist and get to him. They all knew fate could turn on a dime and any one of them could be injured or worse at any moment. Living with the knowledge of that possibility was a lot different than seeing it happen right in front of their eyes. Murdock had been lucky. A few days holed up in a secluded spot with the team taking care of him and his vision had slowly returned. The burns had healed.

If Murdock's injury had given Hannibal the inkling to approach Maggie about an on-call arrangement with the team, then Ray's murder and the events after leaving Arkansas had forced him to decide. It was always risky showing up to random hospitals with any serious injuries, even if Face's fake documents were flawless. Amy could always check-in as herself but that would lead Lynch right to her and even though Murdock had the VA, showing back up after his extended absences all beat up and bruised would make breaking him out that much harder the next time.

The lighter clicked as it popped out and Hannibal held it to the tip of his cigar. He inhaled and held the smoke in his mouth for a beat, savoring the rich, pungent taste. He blew the smoke out toward the slightly cracked-open window and gripped the steering wheel a little harder. Just thinking about Ray made his stomach clench. In his head, he knew there was nothing that he could have done, but in his heart, he wished he had been there for Ray like Ray had been there for him and the team during the trial. Ray had been a solid presence in their lives, even when they couldn't speak directly or see each other often. Hannibal hated letting any of his team down. Despised it. He _had_ never and _would_ never ask any of his subordinates to do anything he wasn't willing to do himself. Now Ray was dead and Hannibal would live with the guilt of not being there for him for the rest of his life. He did what he always did with emotions and feelings that had no place in the life of a fugitive - he shoved them down deep and locked them away, consciously turning his thoughts to something he still had some control over. He reminded himself to ask Face how the fund for the baby was coming. He'd call Trish and check in with her next week. They couldn't help Ray anymore but the team would make damn sure his wife and child were well taken care of.

Hannibal shifted the cigar in his mouth again and made the decision. His attraction to Maggie would stay secondary. This would be a business arrangement, nothing more. That's how it had to be. The team's health and well-being came before his own desires.

'We'll keep things platonic.' Hannibal vowed to himself as he slid the car over in front of a red Buick and took the exit that led to Bad Rock.

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The bell over the door jangled loudly as Hank walked into the Sheriff's office. Deputy Jack Harmson stopped hunting and pecking on the keyboard long enough to give him a frustrated smile.

"Hiya, Sheriff." Hunt. Peck. Hunt. Peck. Peck.

"Jack. How's it goin'?"

"I tell ya, we did just fine before this newfangled machine. Why we've got to enter all these files into it?"

Hank considered the question. Jack already knew that the Feds wanted to start a National database for criminals and every municipality in the country was to start using budget funds to purchase computers and begin the long and arduous process of digitizing all their files and records. Jack was old school and had no interest in career advancement or streamlining procedure, let alone joining the technology age. As Bad Rock's only deputy, he was perfectly content to defer to Hank. Handling the occasional drunk and disorderly, vandalism or petty theft was fine with him until the day he could retire with a pension from the state and sit at home on the front porch, drinking beer and driving his wife nuts.

"I reckon it'll help everyone out in the long run." Hank poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at his desk. "Any messages?"

Jack cursed under his breath as he hunted for another seemingly elusive key. "Nope, it's been quiet 'round here today."

It was Hank's turn to sigh. He of course didn't want people to commit crimes, but nothing had happened in Bad Rock in months and that had just been old man Redburn's grandsons tagging a few street signs while they visited from L.A. Hank didn't want a repeat of Jenko's biker gang attack but it seemed like since the town had faced such a serious threat, no one had stepped as much as a toe out of line.

Hank looked at the clock. Seven hours and 54 minutes until he could leave to pick up Maggie for their date. She was the one bright spot in this dreary little town. Determined not to watch the clock, Hank started in on the monthly budget report.

For the next half hour, the clicking of keyboard keys was interspersed with the occasional mild curse from Deputy Harmson.

"Dagnabit! Sheriff, if I didn't know better, I'd think these buttons were movin' around on me."

Hank chuckled as Jack pushed the computer keyboard away and wiped the sweat off his brow with a handkerchief.

"Maybe we see if Peggy wants to earn a little spending money to type those records up, huh Jack?"

"I'll pay her myself, Sheriff." Jack stood up and limped to the door, holding a hand over his lower back. "I'ma get us lunch. The usual?"

"Thanks, Jack. You mind picking up an extra sandwich? I told Mo I'd bring her lunch today."

"Sure thing." Jack replied as he left the office.

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Maggie was sitting on her porch, enjoying the peace and quiet when a brown vehicle she didn't recognize pulled to a stop in front of her property. The driver killed the engine but continued to sit in the car. She watched warily, ready to run inside and retrieve her gun if necessary. After another minute, Maggie stood up to show the mystery visitor she was aware of their presence. It suddenly occurred to her that maybe the driver was injured and couldn't get out of the car. She took a cautious step down towards the walkway and then another until she could bend down and see inside the car. Just as she was in line to see who it was, the door opened and none other than Hannibal Smith stood up and shot her a jaunty smile over the hood of the car.

"Hiya, Doc."

Maggie sighed with relief that there was no immediate threat, became worried about the potential reason he had shown up again out of the blue and felt her heart start to race at the sight of him, all within about half a second.

She stepped down off of the last step as he came around the car to greet her.

"Hannibal, I didn't expect to see you again. Is everything ok?"

"We've had a few little incidents but everyone is fine and BA's leg is good as new. He stopped limping about a month ago."

"That's good." She looked at him expectantly.

"Doc, I'd like to discuss something with you. Can we talk inside?"

Maggie pretended to consider his request until he flashed a blinding smile at her scrutiny and then her face broke into a wide grin and she turned to the side and gestured toward her door, hoping her shaking knees wouldn't give her away. What was it about this man?

Hannibal smirked at the reaction she had tried to hide from him, and offered her his arm. Seeing her again made him realize this wasn't going to be easy. Still, it had to be easier than finding another doctor they could trust.

"I was just about to make a fresh pot of coffee. Would you like some?"

"Thanks." Hannibal smiled, not taking his eyes off of her as they walked up the porch steps together.

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Hank had finally started to concentrate on his report again when Jack walked through the door and dumped a lunch tray on his desk.

"Sheriff, did you know that A-Team guy, uh, Smith, was here?"

"Smith? You sure?"

"I seen him, plain as day. He pulled up to Doc's house as I was heading out to the diner. You think it has something to do with them bikers?"

"No, Jenko and his gang are still in prison and not leaving for a long time. I'll head over and make sure everything's ok." Hank set his and Jack's lunch down on the desk and picked up the tray to take to Maggie's. "Hold down the fort. I'll be back soon."

"Ok, Sheriff. I got my eyes peeled."

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Maggie's fingertips traced a lazy trail up and down Hannibal's arm. She tipped her head up from her resting place on his chest and smiled.

"What's your real name?"

"John." he answered, shifting an arm out from behind his head to pull her in for a soft kiss.

"I like that." she murmured.

"I'm kind of partial to it myself."

Maggie smiled. "You don't lack confidence, do you?"

"Now why would you say that?" Hannibal asked with a chuckle.

They were both quiet for a moment.

"I have to head back soon."

"I know. At least let me make you lunch first."

Hannibal laughed and rolled over, maneuvering Maggie onto her back on the bed. "I think we missed lunch."

The doorbell chimed loudly throughout the house and Hannibal was up and reaching for his gun before the echo had faded.

"Sorry, I know it's loud but I have to be able to hear my patients if they need me." Maggie explained as she jumped up and pushed her arms into the sleeves of a robe. "I'll be right...oh, no!"

"What is it?"

"It's probably Hank. He said he would bring me lunch today." Leaning into the mirror over her dresser, Maggie brushed her fingers through her hair, trying to remove the mussed look she was unintentionally sporting.

"Hank Thompson?" Hannibal smirked. "You have a date with the Sheriff?"

"It's a standing date. We're mostly friends."

Amusement in his eyes, Hannibal asked, "Mostly?"

Maggie frowned at him. "You stay," she ordered. "I'll be right back."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Hannibal gestured toward her as the doorbell chimed again.

Maggie stopped and looked down at her robe. "Oh, hell."

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Hank pressed the doorbell for the third time and cupped his hand over his eyes to peer through the frosted glass. He didn't see any movement inside. He had just turned to go around back when Maggie opened the door.

"Hank. I'm-"

"Hannibal! Jack said he saw you over here." Hank looked past Maggie as he spotted the Colonel coming toward him.

"Sheriff. Nice to see you again." Hannibal held out his hand in greeting as he came up next to Maggie, whose head had whipped around and who was now staring at him incredulously.

"Uh, Hannibal came to, well-" Maggie stuttered as she realized she hadn't the first clue why Hannibal had come. They hadn't even made it to the coffee.

"I came with a proposition for the Doc here." Hannibal grinned as Maggie sucked in a breath and promptly choked on it.

Patting Maggie gently on the back and moving her out of the doorway, Hannibal gestured for Hank to come inside.

Recovering her voice, Maggie offered, "Would you like some coffee, Hank? I was just about to make a pot."

"Thanks, Mo but I have to get back. Just stopped by to drop off that lunch I promised. I'll be back about 7." Hank handed the sandwich over and made sure his fingers brushed hers a little longer than was necessary. He didn't want to get territorial but he also didn't like how comfortable Hannibal seemed to be with Maggie in her house. "I'd say it was good to see you again, Colonel, but I never saw you."

Hannibal gave a wave as Hank turned to go. "Appreciate it, Sheriff."

Hank hesitated as he heard Maggie's door click closed and he glanced back over his shoulder. 'Nothing to worry about,' he thought before forcing himself to keep walking back to the station.


End file.
